


Five Times Alec Hates Sandalwood + 1 Time He Doesn't

by ladyshmelton



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec hates sandalwood, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - This World Inverted (Shadowhunters TV), Drunk Jace Wayland, Drunk Simon Lewis, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, but does he really, just some light pot smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshmelton/pseuds/ladyshmelton
Summary: 5 times Alec Lightwood really doesn't like the smell of sandalwood + 1 time he decides it isn't that bad.
Relationships: Alternate Alec - Relationship, Alternate Magnus Bane/Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	Five Times Alec Hates Sandalwood + 1 Time He Doesn't

**Author's Note:**

> Another sleepless night prompt. Also something I worked on to take a break from my Project Runway AU because Alec is currently in timeout for being too mouthy. No beta because I wanted to save her amazing skills for editing the chaos of my chaptered fic. 
> 
> I took some liberties with who did and didn't show up in the TWI world. Also did some rearranging of shops in Australia to fit my needs. Enjoy this fluffy piece!

1.

The first time Alec smells sandalwood happens during a Lightwood family trip to southeast Asia. Being four years, three months, and twelve days old (yes, he is counting), he doesn’t remember where they are. His child brain is overwhelmed with sights, sounds, and smells. The street they walk down this morning bustles with people. Bodies pack the streets, everyone bumping into and bouncing off of one another. He holds tightly to Mama’s hand, terrified of being lost in the crowd. She holds his hand just as tightly. Strapped tightly to her chest, his younger sister Izzy babbles and reaches for things. Alec wishes he could be carried so he could see the things she sees from her slightly higher vantage point. But Izzy is barely one whereas he is four years, three months, and twelve days. He’s too old to be carried like that.

They meander down the street. Various stalls and small tents line the streets, the vendors inside selling a wide range of goods. Mama stops irregularly to buy oddly-shaped fruit or a bright piece of fabric. Alec watches carefully as she haggles over the price of each item. He inspects the fruit she hands him at one point, eyeing it suspiciously. It kind of looks like a banana from back home, except…not. It’s too big and isn’t the same color. Plus, there’s no little blue sticker with the dancing lady on it. He likes to take the stickers and try to stick them on the nose of their cat, Church (he rarely succeeds and usually ends up with a scratch for his troubles, but it’s funny when it does stick). He glances up at his mama before carefully sticking the not-banana in her market bag hanging off her shoulder. Better not risk eating it now.

At one point, Mama decides to enter one of the tents. It’s a bit larger than the others and tucked a bit farther back from the main road. Alec dutifully follows, pleased that the tent is a paler blue (his favorite color).

Immediately, a thick, woody smells overwhelms him. Alec starts to cough. He was unprepared for the overpowering scent of the incense currently burning on the low table to one side of the tent. Though the aroma is sweet and slightly floral, he chokes on the sheer quantity of it filling the tent. Mama glances down at him in alarm.

“Are you okay, _mijo_?”

Of course, Alec can’t answer through his coughing. His lungs seem to be rejecting the scent and refuse to process any air tinged with it. He tugs half-heartedly at Mama’s hand, trying to encourage her to go back outside where he could _breathe_. Faintly, he hears her exchanging a few quick words with the lady in the tent before she pulls him outside. The air outside the tent is heavy with heat and body odor but lacks the aroma of the incense. He sits with Mama and Izzy on the other side of the tent as they wait for him to catch his breath. It takes Alec several minutes before his coughing resides fully and the tears on his face dry. “What was that?” he croaks, voice hoarse from coughing.

“Sandalwood, sweetheart. Most people like the smell of it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Alec states. He decides right there that he hates the smell of sandalwood.

Mama smiles at him. “Okay. Why don’t we go back to our villa and see if we can find you and Izzy something to eat? I’m sure you both are getting hungry.”

Alec nods eagerly as his stomach suddenly gives a little grumble. Mama stands and leads him back down the street, away from the pale blue tent and the horrible sandalwood incense.

2.

The second time Alec comes across the scent of sandalwood is after a failed first date with a girl from his high school. They were both junios at the time, so their date was a simple picnic at the park right at sunset. Alec insisted that he plan it since he was the man (he refused to admit that he enjoyed looking for the perfect picnic basket set all over town and finding the best spot to lay out their blanket beneath a small grove of trees).

Truthfully, Alec didn’t want to go on the date. He was pretty sure he was only into guys, but his sister insisted that he do at least one “trial date” with a girl to make sure he was gay and not simply bisexual. His logical brain agreed that was a good idea. What if he did like girls when they weren’t in large groups? So, he managed to slip Jessica Hawkblue a note during their fifth period Chemistry class, asking if she wanted to go on a date with him that Saturday at the park? Izzy had mentioned that Jessica had a huge crush on him, so she was sure to say yes.

She did.

The date starts out well enough. Alec arrives early to set up their blanket, complete with a matching picnic basket, a bouquet of freshly-cut flowers from one of Izzy’s friend’s mom’s flower shop, and a couple of small votive candles. He arranges everything carefully on the blanket. The candles sit on an extra plate in the middle of the blanket, providing a little extra light and setting the romantic mood. Pleased with himself, Alec settles on the blanket to wait for Jessica.

She arrives not ten minutes after he finished setting up. Alec stands to give her a quick hug. Her perfume tickles his nose. The top notes are sweet and fresh, but something causes him to pull back sharply and sneeze.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, nerves lighting up at his social faux pas. Jessica merely smiles.

They sit down to enjoy the mini charcuterie-style spread he prepared. Black olives, a mixed bag of salted nuts from the street vendor at the entrance to the park, three different types of cured meat, two different types of cheese (cut into bite-size chunks), and a handful of chocolate truffles nestle in small bowls or containers within the picnic basket. Alec also pulls out two cans of lime La Croix from a side pocket on the outside of the basket. The conversation flounders at first as they struggle to find like interests. Outside of school, they discover that their lives are drastically different: Alec lives with his mom and dad and two younger siblings while Jessica lives with her aunt while her parents travel with the Peace Corp; Alec plans to go to college for… _something_ , while Jessica hopes to follow her parents in the Corp so they can travel together; Alec enjoys planning parties for little things such as Pi Day or the 100th Day of School while Jessica prefers to volunteer at the local animal shelter. Realizing they have very little in common for their hobbies and futures, they quickly return to topics focused around school.

Alec is painfully aware of the time inching by. He likes Jessica, but only as a potential friend. No deeper attraction pulls at his heart or makes butterflies erupt in his chest like certain boys in his school do (yes, he did notice Raj’s tight football pants during their laps in P.E., thank you very much). Once darkness envelopes the park, broken periodically by the streetlights lining the sidewalk, Alec breaks the news to Jessica.

“I had a good time tonight, Jessica.” She beams at him, but he continues talking. “However, I don’t think I can take you on another date. I’m…well, I think I’m gay.”

Her smile falls. She blinks a few times, clearly processing this news. “Oh,” she says.

“I’m terribly sorry if this date led you on. I wasn’t certain about my feelings, and I do like you as a person. You’re kind and pleasant to talk to. However, I don’t like you like that. I’m sorry.” He cringes inwardly at the awkwardness of coming out to his date after they had spent so much time getting to know one another. However, his mama told him to never lie.

Jessica nods slowly. “I….don’t understand, of course. But thank you, Alec. I had a good time with you tonight.” Her eyes shine slightly as she stands. “I…think I’m going to go now.”

Alec scrambles to his feet. “Please, let me walk you to your car.”

She nods. He quickly packs up their picnic stuff before they start off down the path to the street. The silence between them hangs heavy and awkward. In that moment, more than anything, Alec wishes he had been able to make her happy. Not necessarily by being her boyfriend, but even just by being a better friend at the end of this.

At her car, Jessica pauses. “Thank you for the date, Alec. Even if we can’t date, it was nice of you to go out with me.”

“It was my pleasure.” He pauses. “Can I…hug you? I don’t want to make it awkward, but I feel like you need a hug.” She nods slowly again. Alec leans in and carefully wraps one arms around her. With his face this close to her neck, the smell of her perfume fills his nose. This time, the top notes have faded away to reveal the base notes. Sandalwood clogs his nose. When he pulls back, he has to cough a few times to clear its taste from the back of his throat. His eyes water as he coughs. Somewhere I the back of his mind, the scent triggers the memory of being stuck in a pale blue tent. Meanwhile, Jessica slides into her car and drives away. The faint of scent of her perfume and its sandalwood base disappears on the next breeze.

Alec sighs, exhaling the taste of the perfume one last time. Regret and sadness tinge the memory of sandalwood and Jessica Hawkblue’s pretty green eyes as he watches her car turn a corner.

3.

The third time Alec encounters sandalwood happens during his sophomore year of college. He returns to his dorm room after a long day chock full of classes to find an overwhelming and unpleasantly familiar scent drifting through the hallway. The room he shares with Meliorn is at the end of the hall, closest to the large window set at either end of the hallway. Alex scowls as the smell grows thicker with every step towards his room.

Meliorn is… _eccentric_. Alec has never met a hippie before, but he’s pretty sure Meliorn qualifies as one. Each month, he acquires a new salt lamp (despite his collection starting to overflow the top of his desk). His wardrobe features an eclectic mix of vegan fabrics and odd items woven from straw or long grasses. Alec never fails to be appalled at the unattractive manner of dress his roommate favors. But if anything catches Alec’s attention, it’s the incense. Before rooming with Meliorn, he had only smelled incense during that one family trip to southeast Asia. Now, it is an everyday occurrence. Meliorn seems to enjoy mixing different scents of incense. His go-to base is cedarwood, which he mixes with a variety of florals and other woody scents. Alec tolerates it only because he knows he has quirks of his own that mildly annoy Meliorn, but they have an unspoken agreement to let the small things slide in some kind of mutual peace treaty.

That changes today.

Alec shoves the door open a bit harder than he intends due to his annoyance. The smell of sandalwood wraps around him, thicker and nearly tangible in the air with how much smoke fills their room. Meliorn sprawls across his bed. Two of his friends lay on the floor, gazing wide-eyed at the ceiling light. Alec knows that all three of them only had morning classes today, since it’s Friday. He slams his bag on his desk before whirling on his roommate.

“You couldn’t wait until I was gone for the weekend to do this?” he demands.

Meliorn waves one hand lazily. “I did not know when you would be back. You said yourself that your classes today may run longer.”

Alec wants to growl. He wants to yell and smash one of those hazy orange lamps. He wants to grab his stuff and run far away before their RA catches on that the sandalwood smell is just a cover-up for the skunky aroma of the weed they’re currently smoking. Isabelle would call him a prude for not giving in and trying it “just once, to lighten up a bit, big brother.” She doesn’t understand that his five-year plan for college and getting started as an adult hinges on not getting suspended or expelled for smoking his roommate’s weed “just once.” He glares at Meliorn. “You know that I don’t care what you do when I’m gone. You want to light this whole place up and turn it into your own personal hotbox room, go for it. But _wait until I leave_. I’m not getting expelled because I smell like your indifference.”

Meliorn rolls his head and shrugs half-heartedly. “You may still leave. We’ve already begun, though.”

Realizing that Meliorn has indeed already begun (and likely been at this for at least an hour, by the looks of his friends), Alec decides to leave before the smell permanently ingrains itself in his clothes. He snatches his toiletry bag from his closet (which he keeps tightly shut and has at least three air fresheners hanging in intervals to ward off the scent of pot) along with a pair of boxers and a change of clothes for tomorrow before shoving everything in his schoolbag. Underhill promised he could stay the night if they ended up staying up late to study for their Intro to Psych course. While they are studying two very different fields (Alec is majoring in Hospitality while Underhill is in criminal justice), they hit it off in their basic classes during freshman year and try to take at least one course together every semester. They crash at each other’s dorms frequently, a fact that Alec appreciates more and more with his current roommate situation.

A cough builds in the back of his throat. The mixture of marijuana and sandalwood burns his esophagus. Blinking away a few stray tears from the smoke wafting through the room, Alec swings his bag over his shoulder before quickly exiting the room. He strides down the hallway, past the exit to outside, and straight to Room 226 – his RA’s room. He knocks twice and waits. The door swings open to reveal a darker-skinned man just a few inches shorter than Alec himself.

“Hello, Alec. What can I do for you?” Victor asks, his smooth voice tinged slightly with an accent Alec has yet to identify.

“Meliorn and his friends are currently smoking pot in our room. I don’t want to be the snitch, but it’s strong enough that I’m sure my clothes will smell of it for at least a week. I just got back from my classes and I’m leaving now for the weekend, but I wanted to make you aware of that.” Alec feels a hint of guilt for tattling on his roommate. That feeling intensifies when he sees the glee light up Victor’s eyes.

“Thank you for telling me this, Alec. I’ll make sure to talk with Meliorn tonight about his…unsavory habits.” With that the senior steps back into his room and shuts his door. Alec glances down the hallway toward his room. Part of him wants to run down there and come clean to Meliorn, maybe see if they can start to air out the room before the police come. However, he knows that if he doesn’t let this play out now, he may never find the courage to do this again. With that thought in mind, he hefts his bag a bit higher on his shoulder and sets out towards Underhill’s dorm.

4.

The fourth time Alec smells sandalwood is during Jace’s bachelor party. They had saved enough money over the years of him dating Clary to splurge on a condo in Sydney, Australia, for the weekend. Being the oldest and the only event planner in their friend group, Alec took charge of securing the condo, coordinating their flights, and finding attractions and events that didn’t hinge on them getting blackout drunk. Even Jace admitted that driving down to take a hot air balloon tour over the capital of Australia beats sitting in a bar for 8 hours, watching soccer.

Of course, being a bachelor party, they did find themselves drinking quite frequently over the course of the weekend. Jace decides on their second evening in Syndey that they need to do a bar crawl. He fails to realize that the bars he chose (based solely on what he remembered seeing as they had driven around the city) are often several blocks apart. Nevertheless, Alec, Simon, and two of Jace’s friends from the gym indulge him. Two bars and too many drinks in, though, Alec wishes he had talked Jace out of it – or at least worn more sensible shoes. His Sperry’s are comfortable and fashion-forward, but not meant to withstand the constant movement of a walking bar crawl.

They are just a couple blocks away from the third (and potentially last, based on Jace’s stumbling steps) bar when Simon spots it. It’s a small, unobtrusive shop tucked in among the other buildings in this area of town. It doesn’t feature the bright colors and bold lettering the shops around it seems to prefer. The sign above the door jutting over the sidewalk reads “Mt. Attraction.” Alec ventures a guess that Simon’s monkey brain registered the word “attraction” and Americanized it to mean some sort of sex store. When the other man veers aside and drags them all into the store, Alec is the only one unsurprised to find it is a standard, un-sex-related store.

Massage oils, lotions, and candles in neutral colors line the shelves of one wall. On a low table on the other side of the room, various types of incense and holders sit (though none currently burn, Alec is pleased to note). A rotating swivel in the center of the room features dozens upon dozens of essential oil bottles. Despite the later evening hour, a handful of other customers occupy the small shop. A young couple debates over the best massage oil while an older woman reads the back of one of the essential oil bottles. Simon and Jace meander toward the massage oils while the gym buddies stand near the door, poking at the small diffuser on an end table right beside the door. Every few minutes, it lets out a puff of cool, slightly scented air. It takes a few puffs before the smell reaches Alec. Once it does, he tenses. Sandalwood. Memories, all tinted with negative emotions, bubble just below the surface of his consciousness. He adamantly refuses to acknowledge them and instead wanders over towards the essential oils. Izzy expressed interest in these lately; perhaps this shop will have one that she has been looking for.

He had just started to open the tester bottle of the third essential oil he remembers Izzy mentioning when a loud crash breaks the quiet of the shop. Alec’s head snaps toward the sound. Jace sits on the floor on one side of the room, covered in various types of massage oil. Simon stands beside him, braced against the bookshelf that no longer has any shelves. Shattered glass and broken candles surround them.

For a few moments, no one says anything. Then, the lady behind the cash register starts sobbing. The young couple and the older woman quickly vacate, leaving Alec and his band of drunken idiots. Simon attempts to help Jace up from the floor, only for them both to crash back down due to Jace slipping around in the oil. Alec sighs.

“Just stay sitting down,” he snaps at Simon and Jace as they prepare to stand up again. “You’ve caused enough damage as it is.” By the door, the gym friends remain frozen. Alec thanks whatever angel is listening that they manage to share their single braincell long enough to realize that he doesn’t need them causing any chaos now either. With another long-suffering sigh, he approaches the crying cashier.

Thirty minutes and a couple hundred dollars later, Alec drags the bachelor party from the shop and all but shoves them into a taxi he called fifteen minutes ago. Jace and Simon are slightly less oily, having used the employee only bathroom after Alec promised to pay for all the damages and to personally clean the bathroom before they leave the premise. The cabbie still wrinkles his nose at the slick sounds of the duo sliding across the backseat. The gym buddies climb in next, wedging themselves in as Alec slams the door. He clambers into the front seat and gives the address for their condo.

Now that they occupy a smaller space, the scent of the massage oils fills the cab. Alec thumps his head back with a groan as the base notes of sandalwood curl around him. Of course it’s sandalwood. Most people have soundtracks to their lives; he has a smell-track. Wait, no. He shakes his head, attempting to clear the slight buzz of alcohol brought on by his semi-tipsy state. Whatever it’s called, he realizes that many of the more unpleasant memories throughout his life are colored by the scent of sandalwood. Naturally, it would make an appearance now as well. Alec closes his eyes and pointedly ignores the tickling at the back of his throat that threatens to send him into a coughing fit. It’s a ten-minute drive to their condo. He can survive ten minutes surrounded by sandalwood.

He does. If only barely.

5.

The next time Alec runs into the scent of sandalwood is Isabelle’s fault. She had forced him from his apartment with the promise of a late-night bacon burger from the diner down the street from her own apartment. Alec had begrudgingly agreed, if only because he had been planning the wedding of a picky client for the last three days without a significant break. His brain had gone numb from looking at the same color scheme and flower choice (her questionable choices floored him – a red rose bouquet when her color scheme is mint, dove gray, and cream?!).

They had been walking back to Izzy’s apartment for a marathon of “Dancing with the Stars” when she had suddenly shoved him towards a doorway. Startled, he freezes and glances at the large window into the shop. Or, what should have been into the shop, if it hadn’t been covered in deep red drapes, golden tassels, and Buddhas of various sizes and colors. The lettering across the top of the window read “Psychic Readings – Know Your Future!” in big block letters.

“No.”

Izzy whines. “Alec, please? You’ve been so unhappy lately. You don’t leave your apartment unless it’s to run errands or meet your clients, you don’t go on dates, and I know you only agreed to go out with me because I offered to buy your dinner. Please, go in? Maybe they can help unblock your Chi and find you love.”

Ah. There’s the kicker, isn’t it? He hadn’t found love. Jace had married Clary just over six months ago; Isabelle and Simon had been dating several years; even Underhill, his long-standing single friend, had met Lorenzo last April and had started dating just a few weeks later. And Alec…Alec hadn’t been on a date since Jace’s wedding, let alone had anything resembling a second date since college. How could he explain to Izzy that he hadn’t found someone who inspired him, who made him want to have a second date? He was content being single. There was no one else demanding his time, energy, or attention. This? This was sustainable for the time being.

Knowing all of this, he isn’t sure why he allowed Isabelle to push him inside the psychic’s store. Maybe he’s tired of taking care of himself. Maybe he yearns for someone else to take care of him, to worry about him, to want to provide for him when he forgets to do it himself. Maybe he wishes to take care of someone who doesn’t _expect_ him to take care of them. All of his clients expect him to solve their problems, to provide the party or event of their dreams, and pay him handsomely for it. Maybe he wishes to plan a simple night in with a boyfriend, or an anniversary dinner that is for just the two of them. Whatever the reasoning, he allows Izzy shove him through the door and into the heavily scented shop.

He immediately sneezes several times in a row. Sandalwood. His eyes water and he struggles not to cough. “It’s always _sandalwood_ ,” he mutters. Izzy glances at him, one eyebrow raised in an obvious question. He shrugs it off in favor of watching the ‘psychic’ flounce into the room. Her light brown hair is pulled up into a 60s-style beehive. Giant reading glasses magnify her eyes, giving her impression of an insect. She wears an emerald green robe that stretches to the floor. Alec briefly admires the gold threading through the lapels, clearly the only stylish thing about her or her shop. Without a word, she ushers them into the room that must have the street window, based on the drapes to their right. A low table rests in the middle of the room. Several poofy ottomans sit around it.

“Welcome to Madame Dorothea’s, psychic in all things of the future. Please, have a seat.” She lowers herself onto the poof across the table from them. Alec glares at the incense burning on the table. The sandalwood scent intensified in this room, meaning the smell originates from the wooden sticks smoldering gently in their holder. Izzy plops down onto one of the poofs, tugging on Alec’s hand until he also sits.

Madame Dorothea turns to Izzy and begins pulling out a few tarot cards as they talk. Alec assumes his scowl deterred her from starting with him. As she reads Izzy’s love life, future at her career, and a potential falling out with a close friend, Alec watches the sandalwood silently.

When did he allow his personal life to take a backseat to his professional life? When did he allow his five-year plan to dominate his every action? He ponders these questions as the smoke drifts up and the sandalwood scent curls around him. He never wanted to be a slave to his work. While it does provide a sense of security and accomplishment, he never wanted to be the person who stopped going to game nights because a demanding client asked him to rearrange the seating chart for the sixth time. Sure, his dates usually slowed to a trickle during spring wedding season, but they usually picked up gain in late August. He blinks as he realizes that it’s October and he hasn’t been on a date in close to a year. Parallel to this realization is a small voice whispering that sandalwood seems to be the aroma for his trials and tribulations. Alec Lightwood, unlovable and cursed with sandalwood.

He stands abruptly, nearing overturning the table and incense. That little voice whispers that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if the sandalwood sticks were snuffed out.

“Alec! I was just about to find out if my future contains fortune and fame!” Izzy pouts at him, but her eyes betray her concern.

“I’m not stopping you from that,” he replies. “However, I…need to go. Text me when you get home.” With Izzy’s protests ringing in his ears, Alec flees the psychic shop. The scent of sandalwood chases him home.

+1

Alec steps inside Magnus’s loft after a long day of planning. He had three different college graduation parties for Columbia graduates he was planning, alongside a wedding in a month and a half. Everything was coming down to crunch time. Yet returning to the loft every couple of nights brought a sense of peace and security that he never found elsewhere.

“Magnus?” he calls. A soft hum comes from Magnus’s workroom. Alec quickly removes his shoes and his light spring jacket. Stepping further into the loft, he smiles as Chairman Meow sprints down the hallway to greet him. Church is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn’t surprise him. The grumpy gray cat prefers to be left alone unless it is mealtime. Chairman Meow, however, eagerly winds between his legs, emitting happy chirps at him every few seconds. Alec pauses to bend down and scratch the small tabby’s head. He grew up with the odd dog or fish (if Izzy or Max managed to keep their carnival fish alive longer than a handful of weeks), but never had a cat before. In nearly living with Magnus now, he supposes that Chairman Meow recognizes him as part of his clan now. Hence the happy chirps and near-death experiences of winding between his moving feet. The thought warms his heart and begins to lighten the tension of his day.

Content with the scratches, Chairman flits back down the hallway, tail a waving flag behind him. Alec chuckles as he continues toward Magnus’s workroom. He pauses in the doorway, leaning one arm against the door frame to watch his boyfriend work.

Magnus moves with a grace that most people can never hope to obtain. Every movement flows effortlessly into the next. He is poetry in motion – but that’s something Alec keeps to himself, content to wax poetic in his own mind. Even now, surrounded by the chaos of his workroom, he moves with a fluidity that enhances his natural beauty.

“I would say take a photo, but I happen to know that you have several,” Magnus comments, not bothering to look up from the bowl of liquids he stirs.

Alec smirks. “That I do.” He strides into the workroom until he can stand beside Magnus above the bowl. “Hello.” He drops a kiss on the shorter man’s head. Magnus hums happily but keeps his eyes trained on the bowl. Alec wants to pout, but at that moment a whiff of a dreaded scent wafts his way. His body freezes, suddenly lined with tension. “What are you making?” The voice that leaves him is strangled.

Magnus pauses, seemingly noticing that something is wrong with his boyfriend. His eyes flick up to Alec’s face. “It’s my old shampoo recipe. I used to make it centuries ago, but stopped when I los—lost myself, so to speak. I’m sort of…reclaiming myself by making it again. Alexander, are you alright?”

The scent of sandalwood sticks in his nose. Alec wants to cry, just a little bit. Why sandalwood?

“Well, I tend to enjoy spicier and floral scents alike. Sandalwood pairs well with both of them. But that does not answer my question. Alexander, what’s wrong?” Magnus abandons his stirring and turns to face Alec, cupping his cheeks. Alec belatedly realizes he voiced his frustration aloud – hence the response. He blinks rapidly to clear the tears threatening to glaze his eyes. “Alexander, talk to me,” Magnus whispers, voice dropped lower with concern.

“I, uhm – I don’t have the best track record with sandalwood,” Alec hedges. Magnus clearly enjoys the scent. Who is Alec to deny him that? Even if it may mean that their relationship is coming to an end. Sandalwood always heralds miserable events; why should this time be any better?

Magnus tilts his head, considering that. “A vague answer, but I can work with it. So it isn’t that you dislike the smell, necessarily, just that it has been paired with...less than positive experiences in the past?”

And what a simple way to put it. Alec never stopped to consider if he even liked the smell of it. He forces himself to close his eyes and remember. The first time he encountered sandalwood hadn’t been bad, per se. If anything, he had merely been caught off-guard by the sheer quantity of it, not to mention the smoke lingering in that pale blue tent. The other four experiences were decidedly less pleasant, though. “I…don’t know? I mean, the first time I smelled it wasn’t bad, but I don’t now if I liked it.”

He opens his eyes when Magnus doesn’t answer for several long moments. There’s worry and concern etched into his face, but there’s also a considering look in his eyes. “Alexander, do you trust me?”

“With my life” comes his automatic reply.

Magnus’s breath hitches, but neither of them respond to that declaration of trust for the moment. Alec blinks his way past it while Magnus swallows before continuing. “Okay. Um, that’s good. Will you go run us a bath?” Alec nods and swoops down to press a soft kiss to Magnus’s lips before heading to the bathroom. Anxiety twists, cold and uncertain, in his stomach at the prospect of sandalwood ruining this perfect thing between them. But he does trust Magnus, and he will hold on to that as long as he can. With that thought in mind, he starts their bath.

***

An hour later, they cuddle in bed, Alec wrapped around Magnus with his head resting on the other man’s chest. A hand sweeps up and down his back, a soothing presence. The scent of sandalwood clings to both of them. Magnus had taken the time to pamper Alec, washing his hair and scrubbing his body, which inevitably led to far dirtier activities that required a shower to rinse off the scum pit bathwater. By the time they had collapsed into bed, tired and sated, Alec hadn’t even realized they were covered in the scent. Even now, with his head pressed to Magnus’s chest, he only vaguely registers the smell.

“What do you think?” Magnus murmurs. “Can I make you a believer in the pleasing aroma of sandalwood yet?”

Alec smiles, knowing the other man can feel it where he presses it into his chest. “With more nights like tonight, I think you can convince me that sandalwood isn’t all bad.”

Magnus chuckles. They lapse into silence, content merely to snuggle until sleep begins to pull them under. As Magnus’s breathes even out and Alec’s eyes begin to close, he decides that maybe sandalwood is a nice scent after all.


End file.
